


Dance All Night

by Ailette



Series: Real Rainbows [2]
Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Imported, M/M, Real Sexy PV setting, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Rainbows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance All Night

It’s been three and a half weeks since the “first” time Kento met Fuma in that dingy little club in the capital of Water Country. That’s more than enough time to crave seeing ( _touching, feeling_ ) Fuma again and just enough to make him get enough distance to realize just how bad an idea this is.  
“Your Royal Highness? Everything is set,” someone says quietly from the door. It’s as close to a scolding about being late as Kento is ever going to get from a butler, but it’s enough to make him quickly shout back that he’s coming and tug on his royal blue coat nervously one last time in front of the mirror.  
  
As he makes his way down from his rooms to the hall where the ball will be held today, he almost falls down the stairs twice, making the butler side-eye him (undoubtedly worried that Kento might be drunk). He’s never this nervous before social gatherings. He usually absolutely loves them, enjoys being put into the spotlight for a little while and making nice with people who travel from all over the country just to get a chance to talk to him. He’s always aware that it’s because of his rank, but that doesn’t perturb him too much.  
  
Admittedly, today is more important. Officials from all the surrounding countries are attending. Even his parents, already looking somewhat disgruntled as they stand in front of the great entrance doors to the hall as they wait for their son to stumble the last few meters to them and grin sheepishly, aren’t the reason he’s so nervous today.  
  
It’s all because of Fuma – or more precisely, the dubious return card to the official invitation that Wind Country had sent back. It only stated one person as attending, without giving name or rank – which was unusual, to say the least. Which meant that Kento had to walk into this thing not knowing whether the man he’d… well, the man he’d _met_ , would be there and if so, in what state of mind he would be. So he’s been telling himself the whole day not to expect Fuma showing up, Fuma recognizing him- Fuma _anything_ , really.  
  
That doesn’t mean that the second the doors open and he steps into the brightly lit ballroom behind his parents, he isn’t scanning the crowd for that blond hair and self-assured smirk that are haunting his dreams.  
  
It’s a little odd, he thinks, just how much he’s been thinking about Fuma ever since he’d left him behind in that clearing to head back home to what counted as his normal life. When Fuma had first approached him in the club, he’d been wary; worried that his disguise hadn’t been good enough. That wariness had changed into something else, later, when they tumbled into the sheets of Fuma’s hotel bed, Fuma still blissfully oblivious to who he was and so very mysterious himself. But Kento had been too worried about protecting his own identity at the time to ask much more than absolutely necessary about Fuma’s.  
  
That had bit him in the ass the day after, of course, but then, there shouldn’t even have been a day after. It had just been because… well, the night with Fuma had been enjoyable, of course, but more than that, it had been _fun_ , in a way that Kento didn’t associate with one-night stands (and the day itself had felt like one long perfect date – something he’d never really had before). Of course he’d taken a liking to Fuma, but it had only occurred to him afterwards that he didn’t exactly know how Fuma felt about him in return. So maybe it makes sense that for the last few weeks, he’s been running around the castle like a lovesick fool, wishing for nothing more than to see Fuma again.  
  
As he steps into the ball room, he doesn’t forget to smile and nod and wave a little, of course. He was born into this role; it’s really second nature to play the audience even when his mind is elsewhere entirely. He doesn’t need to take in the grand buffet and sculptures displayed in the great ballroom, the impressive dark blue curtains hiding the large windows towards the balcony and the countless number of finely dressed nobles in front of them; knowing it all by heart. And yet, when his eyes catch on a vaguely familiar figure, he almost trips over his own two feet.  
  
He’s almost certain no one caught that, but at the same time thinks he hears someone chuckling. A voice that he’d recognize anywhere and really, this is getting ridiculous; it’s far too loud to hear anyone not directly next to him do anything other than yell in his direction.  
  
Forcing himself to take a deep breath and mentally steeling himself, Kento purposefully turns in the direction of the figure. It doesn’t help. When his eyes come to rest on Fuma, it’s like all air rushes out from his lungs and he freezes in place momentarily just to stare.  
  
It’s Fuma to be sure, but for a moment he almost thinks he mistook someone else in his fervent wishing to see the other man again. Because where Fuma was easy grace and flirtatious smiles and glances that exuded a charming confidence with every step he took, the man he sees a few meters away from him now is… it’s hard to describe, Kento thinks for a moment but then inwardly shakes his head at himself because it’s not difficult at all.  
  
The man standing there, calmly returning Kento’s gaze across a room full of people, with his back straight and dressed in vibrant purple; that man is the Crown Prince of Wind Country and it couldn’t be more obvious.  
  
He doesn’t look different, precisely. Just that the air around him, no pun intended, had changed entirely.  
  
And just as Kento was beginning to wonder if he was being obvious in his staring and how exactly he should proceed here, his mother suddenly leans close and whispers,  
“So they send the Crown Prince. That’s fantastic news! Go over and introduce yourself, we don’t want them to think we’re being rude to the next king, darling.”  
  
She gives Kento a not too gentle shove so Kento almost stumbles again and when he peers back over his shoulder he sees her smiling fondly at him in a way that somehow reminds him of when he was five and she made him do little water tricks with his magic for distant relatives who might have hedged hopes that the only child of the royal family had been born without the powers that were required to one day rule the kingdom.  
  
He’s more aware of the eyes tracking him as he closes the distance on Fuma than usual; can hear the way the usual chatter turns more excited and hushed when he finally stops in front of the other man. His smile is only partly forced when he bows his head in greeting.  
  
“We’re honored you accepted our invitation, Your Royal Highness.”  
  
Fuma returns the greeting, his eyes betraying nothing as he replies, “We were honored to receive your invitation, Your Royal Highness.”  
  
They don’t exchange names because it would be ridiculous to pretend that much in circles like theirs; which is ironic in its own right, considering their last encounter.  
  
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Kento utters under his breath, lips barely moving as he continues to smile.  
  
Fuma’s eyebrow twitches, a first sign that it really isn’t the official first meeting it appears to be to everyone else. And even though Kento himself would’ve missed it hadn’t he been searching Fuma’s face for it, he’s acutely aware of just how dangerous it is to do anything more obvious.  
  
“It has been a very long time since I last had the chance to come visit Water Country,” Fuma seamlessly continues their louder conversation. He feigns thought for a moment before admitting, “I must have been nine the last time we had the honour of meeting each other. Forgive me for asking, but I seem to remember rather spectacular water works just outside the castle. However, when I arrived, I could spot no sign of them.”  
  
Which is because the wells and water games are all in the castle’s garden, opposite from the entrance, as Kento’s sure Fuma must be aware. Instead of pointing that out, though, he purposefully widens his smile and gestures towards the balcony.  
  
“I’m delighted you’d remember those. Let me show you, they’re still here.”  
  
The couple dozens of steps it takes them to get to the billowing curtains and finally out of sight from prying eyes as they slip outside onto the wide stone balcony feel like they take hours instead of seconds and Kento’s face almost hurts from keeping it in the same stiff smile he’s had on since first laying eyes on Fuma today.  
  
He doesn’t dare take the first relieved deep breath until they’ve moved a few more steps to the side though, truly hidden now unless someone follows them outside. And no one would dare; a small upside to everyone listening in on their every word before.  
  
A nervous giggle escapes Kento’s mouth when he thinks about it, almost hysterical from suppressing his nerves. He turns to look at Fuma again, but before he can, he’s suddenly tackled backwards against the massive stone wall behind him, hot lips closing hungrily over his. He practically melts into the kiss, all tension flowing out from his body as he lets his hands come to rest on a familiar chest and pull Fuma flush against him; his warmth more than just welcome against chilly night air.  
  
Fuma pulls back far too soon, but only enough to meet Kento’s eyes again, looking him up and down like he’s making sure he’s making out with the right guy. Kento understands the need for that; baffled himself when The Prince has vanished and turned back into just Fuma again. Just Fuma, with his expression unguarded and eyes warm as he musters Kento, a small smirk tugging on his full lips and that little flirtatious spark between them again.  
  
“Blue suits you” Fuma says easily and it’s strange how even his voice sounds a little different now. Warmer, even when he had seemed charming enough inside. He’d appeared charming, yes, but also just closed off enough to not give anyone ideas. “Though that’s a lot of layers. Again.”  
  
Kento has to laugh at that, but tugs on the sash of Fuma’s official coat just the same. “You’re not one to talk, this time.”  
  
He tilts his head to kiss Fuma again, just long enough to enjoy the sight of Fuma’s eyes fluttering shut before he closes his own.  
  
“The colour looks nice on you though.”  
  
Fuma shrugs, glancing down at his clothes like he barely even notices them anymore. “They’ll be a hassle to get out of, later.” He peeks back up through light strands of hair, grinning at Kento in that boyish way again that made him talk to Fuma the first time he came towards him in the club. And sure enough, Fuma adds, “Good thing I’ll have help.”  
  
It’s poised almost like a question and Kento has to laugh again. It’s like he just can’t help himself around this man.  
  
“Of course. You’ll have to come to my quarters anyway, since I’ve still got something that belongs to you.”  
  
“Right, I forgot about my scarf.”  
  
The easy comment makes Kento feel warm all over, not having forgotten that the scarf had been the original flimsy excuse to meet again and hearing Fuma brush it aside so easily makes it sound like he’s here for Kento and Kento only, making a part of his earlier worries and anxiousness disappear.  
  
Still smiling and playing with one of the golden zippers on Fuma’s coat, Kento regretfully says, “The ball will take several hours though.”  
  
Fuma hums in agreement, dropping soft kisses along Kento’s jaw line and slowly lower, down his neck until he has to reach up and tug on Kento’s collar and the white shirt beneath to press one to the juncture between neck and shoulder. Kento makes a strangled little noise in the back of his throat when he feels Fuma sucking and nibbling the spot, sure to leave a mark hidden beneath his clothes. That’s as far as he goes before pulling back though, sighing as he does and pressing another kiss to Kento’s lips. It’s a lot slower this time and Kento hates how he can’t stop thinking that they need to go back inside soon or someone will inevitably come out to look for them.  
  
Thankfully Fuma knows that just as well and only lightly nibs his lips in parting one last time before he grins and walks towards the balcony rail, a light breeze picking up as he looks out over the garden;  softly brushing over Kento’s skin and rustling his hair as he self-consciously re-adjusts his collar and follows Fuma.  
  
“You could ask me for a dance,” he chirps, nudging Fuma’s shoulder with his own lightly.  
  
Fuma chuckles and nudges back, but shakes his head. “We officially just met for the second time. If I asked you to dance, the press would immediately start speculating about me courting you.” He grimaces as he adds, “And next thing you know they’ll be speculating about Wind Country trying to take over Water Country like that.”  
  
“I know,” Kento says with a pout, because he _does_ , but the idea of dancing with Fuma seemed so nice in his head, he just wanted to voice it out loud once. Ball room dancing always seems so intimate and romantic to him, it’s hard to accept that now that he has someone he would like to dance with, he can’t. Well, they did dance the last time, but it was different. They hadn’t known each other at all yet, at that point. Now he knew who Fuma was and how he felt about him – not to mention there was a big difference between grinding against each other in a club and swaying together in a ballroom.  
  
 So caught up in his thoughts, he misses Fuma turning towards him to muster him closely until a small smile spreads over his face and he reaches out to brush soft fingers over Kento’s cheek, catching his attention.  
  
“I can promise I won’t dance with anybody else tonight, either.”  
  
It’s a silly thing to promise, because Kento isn’t the type to get jealous easily, but the sentiment behind the promise still brings his smile back and makes him nod. In any case, he already knows that he’ll have Fuma completely to himself later tonight. That thought sparks another problem though.  
  
“How are we going to get you to my room later?”  
  
Fuma blinks at him I confusion, his hand lowering itself back to the railing. “You don’t have a plan?”  
As Kento shakes his head, the other man sighs and mock-glares at him, lightly smacking his head.  
“Sorry?” Kento offers sheepishly. “I hadn’t really thought about it…” Which is odd, considering he’d spent the entire time thinking about nothing but Fuma; yet somehow this scenario hadn’t occurred to him once.  
  
Fuma grunts, glaring some more before he finally sighs again and asks, “Can’t be helped. Where’s your room, exactly?”  
  
Kento turns to point to the small tower right behind Fuma, surprised when Fuma suddenly seems relieved.  
  
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”  
  
“What do you mean? The only way in is through the main hallway and that’ll bustling with staff tonight!”  
  
Quickly looking around to make sure there’s still no one peeking through the doorway, Fuma presses one last quick kiss to Kento’s mouth before conspiratorially whispering, “Just keep your window open.”  
  
Kento is left to stare after him with some confusion as Fuma walks back towards the entrance before he remembers that it’d probably look odd if the Princes walked back in separately and hurries after him. There’s one last glance they share before walking through the curtains and it doesn’t take more than a few steps inside before the first people start to gather around them.  Steeling himself and putting on a professional smile, Kento starts answering questions about his studies and ideas for his future and what he thinks about the flooding in the south. He doesn’t notice that Fuma is drifting farther away from him as he gets similarly ambushed, only many people and answered questions later getting the chance to look around and spot him at the other end of the room, chatting pleasantly with some elderly women.  
  
This time, Kento allows himself to watch him closely for all the differences in his behavior and smiles lightly when they don’t appear as drastic anymore. Crown Prince or not, beneath the professional behaviour, he now knows it’s still Fuma.

***

  
No official ball has ever felt this impossibly long, Kento thinks as he watches others swirl around the dance floor, absently nibbling on his appetizer. Mostly, it’s because he doesn’t participate, he knows, but after Fuma’s promise he’d feel bad taking anyone else up on the offer to dance.  
  
As it turns out though, Fuma doesn’t take his promise quite as seriously as Kento does. He doesn’t notice it himself at first, just politely declining another invitation when the people around him start whispering again; their focus suddenly not on Kento anymore.  
  
“Well, someone’s popular,” one of the elderly men next to him mumbles and then flushes when Kento looks at him.  
  
Following everyone else’s gaze, his own eyes land on Fuma – and he has to bring up a hand to cover his mouth so he doesn’t start laughing. The Prince of Wind County is indeed very popular – half a dozen suitors surrounding him as he’s dancing with one of them.  
  
Only their average age seems to be somewhere around six. It’s a completely endearing sight as Fuma twirls around a little girl with long black curls that fly around her at the motion as she squeals in delight. There’s a small smile gracing Fuma’s lips as well, expression soft and amused as he entertains his dance partner. Once the song ends, he lets go of her hands and takes a step back to bow to her in the appropriate manner, only to have the little girl laugh joyfully and throw herself forward to hug him (or more accurately, his legs) and demand another dance. The other kids also want their turn though and in a matter of seconds, Fuma is all but cornered by kids tugging at his coat and demanding his attention while their parents look on with a mixture of horrification and fondness. The latter emotion something that Kento can very well understand.  
  
By the time Fuma finally manages to escape his little entourage (mostly thanks to their parents eventually intervening and sending the little ones to bed), Kento is waiting just a few steps from him, leaning against the wall and casually offering him a glass of soda which Fuma takes from him with a brief nod and grateful smile before mirroring his position and downing half the glass in one go.  
  
Kento watches silently for a while as the other man catches his breath before eventually mumbling, “That was _adorable_.”  
  
Fuma shoots him a glare over the rim of his glass before he can stop himself, but quickly schools his features back into a polite smile as he sweetly (and very, very quietly) replies, “Hope you’re not jealous I danced with someone cuter than you.”  
  
As far as comebacks go, that one is grade school level and therefore Kento ignores it completely, instead taking a sip from his own glass and, in a normal voice, asking, “Do you have siblings?”  
  
The smile turns wide and honestly pleased as Fuma nods. “Two younger brothers.”  
  
“How much younger are they? I can’t seem to remember them from the council.”  
  
“Marius is 13 and Sou is 16,” Fuma says, then glances around as if he just remembered they still have an audience, his posture straightening subtly even when very few people appear to be watching them.  “It was decided that they were too young to travel to another country back then.”  
  
“Today, as well?” Kento asks with mild amusement, because he already knows the answer to that. Having kids with him would’ve definitely ruled out any possibility of Fuma staying the night.  
  
As expected, Fuma only shoots him a look and doesn’t reply; which turns out is for the best as Kento’s parents choose that moment to approach them. Kento watches without a word as they greet each other with the proper procedure; staying only long enough to hear Fuma strike up a conversation about harvesting methods in Wind Country before slinking away.  
  
He really just wants to be alone with Fuma, to talk freely and without having to be mindful of who could be listening or watching. He also wants to touch; run his fingers through Fuma’s golden hair and over soft skin, wants to kiss and to interlace their fingers and embrace…  
  
Sighing softly, Kento watches his parents and Fuma talk, not quite sure what to do with himself when all he wants is for this farce to be over already so they can just be Kento and Fuma again.  
  
By chance, it’s in that precise moment that Fuma looks up and meets his eyes, obviously stumbling with his words for a second before quickly focusing back on the King again. Kento wonders how pathetic he must have looked just now, carefully sliding a smile back on his face and about to find someone to talk to when suddenly, a mild breeze of wind swirls around him, ruffling his hair softly before dying down. It feels familiar in a way that makes the smile on Kento’s face turn real, glancing back at Fuma and eyes crinkling in amusement as he can see Fuma’s fingers moving subtly by his side, tugging on the energy streams of his magic.  
  
It seems to become a game after that, Fuma playfully reaching out for him through soft gusts of wind every now and then, cheering Kento right up no matter what he is doing at the moment. It’s fun and harmless enough that no one has any chance to notice, the only clue the matching smiles on both of their faces even as neither of them is looking at the other. In the end, it’s still a poor excuse for actual physical contact and Kento forces himself to stay as far away from Fuma as he can get away with without causing any bad rumours just so he doesn’t do anything stupid.  
  
Even as it feels like forever, with only one talk that involves both Fuma and him where he resolutely doesn’t meet the other man’s eyes as they discuss the sudden increase of combustions in Fire Country in a small circle of politicians, the ball ends. The Prince of Wind Country slips out with the first wave of leaving guests, politely thanking the King and Queen for the invitation and exchanging platitudes. Kento has to hold back a snort when the King suggests Fuma stay for a few days to see the country, because Fuma very seriously shakes his head and claims to have important matters to attend to the following day.  Kento doesn’t miss the quick flicker of eyes towards him before the other man hesitantly proclaims that he’d love to come back for that another time, however, and Kento feels his ears heat up even as he keeps a polite smile on his face as he bids Fuma farewell.  
  
After that, it seems to take forever for the rest of the guests to leave and Kento actually starts entertaining the thought of pretending to feel sick just so he can bow out of the room already when finally, the last guest vanishes through the big wooden doors and he bids his parents a good night before he is practically running out and through the corridor.  
  
It must have been over an hour already since Fuma left and Kento still isn’t entirely sure how the other man plans to get to his rooms; the main corridor bustling with staff already as he winds his way through them. Locking his door behind him automatically, Kento half expects Fuma to already be there, waiting for him in the dark, maybe sitting on his large four-poster bed or on the armchair next to his bookshelves, so he looks around frantically, slightly out of breath from his sprint up the stairs. But even after he switches the light on, no secret visitor reveals itself in his main room so Kento carefully checks the bath before walking into his bed room. Since even that is completely empty, Kento moves over to the large window behind his desk and opens it wide, leaning on his elbows to get a good view of the darkened grounds about a dozen meters beneath him. Really, how does Fuma want to get up here? He’d specifically said to open the window, but, unless he had a giant ladder (which would be less than subtle)…  
  
Suddenly, there’s a whoosh of wind, making Kento close his eyes against the gust of air and even as he thinks, _oh_ , he feels a hand close around his shoulder and hears the sound of feet landing on his window sill.  
  
Blinking, Kento looks up at Fuma’s smug face greeting him and shouts, “You can fly?!”  
  
Fuma blinks back at him in return, seeming somewhat confused by that greeting and Kento belatedly remembers that they’re supposed to be secretive about their meeting and having Fuma sit in his open window as he shouts at him is definitely less than subtle, so he reaches out for the purple coat and tugs Fuma inside and – not quite accidentally – flush against himself.  
  
His hands wander up to fist themselves into the collar of the coat instead and he grins as he uses that hold to tug Fuma forward once more, just a few centimeters into a slow kiss this time. He can feel the way the other man’s lips curl into a smile against his own and sighs happily when arms encircle his waist.  
  
“Hi,” Fuma says when he pulls back, eyes all but sparkling as they look at Kento and Kento is so, so glad that he can finally see _his_ Fuma properly again, illuminated by his room’s lamps now and no longer hidden in the shadows as he was on the balcony.  
  
“Hi,” he replies, unable to stop the silly grin from spreading over his features and unwilling to move even a millimeter away. “Seriously. Can you fly?”  
  
This time, Fuma laughs and – to Kento’s utter disappointment – shakes his head. “Not really.” He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking, Kento thinks, as cold fingers gently stroke over his cheek.  
  
“Then how did you get up here? I want to see!”  
  
“Are you kicking me out after I just got in?” Fuma asks, trying to sound hurt but coming off as amused instead. “You can watch when I leave later on. It’s cold outside.”  
  
As if to emphasize his words, Fuma turns halfway back to flick his fingers and make the window fly shut with a gust of air before glancing back at Kento like he expects him to be impressed. Kento just snorts and winds himself out of Fuma’s embrace to close the window properly (he really doesn’t want any… _noises_ to be heard from outside later).  
  
“You know you don’t have to show off anymore, right? I’m going to sleep with you anyway.”  
  
“Well aren’t you easy,” Fuma says drily behind him and when Kento looks back he’s got his arms crossed and eyebrow arched and suddenly, Kento finds his cheeks reddening. He hadn’t put any thought in his words before, but that _is_ a pretty forward thing to say. It sounds like he’s desperate for it and while that is true to a certain degree, he doesn’t like getting embarrassed like this at all and so decides there’s nothing to do but push on. Quite literally when he purposefully strides forward with a predatory smile on his lips and shoves a once again amused looking Fuma backwards onto his neatly made bed; making him yelp in surprise and quickly untangle his arms to catch his own fall.  
  
“I’m getting déjà vu,” Fuma mutters when Kento loses no more time to climb into his lap, swatting half-heartedly at his arm before bending down to kiss him silent.  
  
There is an obvious difference to the last time though, Kento thinks and smiles as Fuma’s tongue runs over his bottom lip, granting him entrance easily. There is no urge to rush as much as they did then, no frantic need to explore and uncover more of the other when they already know what awaits them. It makes it that much better when Fuma’s hands start to work their way down the front of his coat, only briefly getting tangled in the long blue shawl before opening the golden buttons one after the other until he can slide the intricate coat off Kento’s shoulders without breaking their kiss.  
  
Kento mirrors the action, his fingers slowly tracing the lines of muscle on Fuma’s stomach once they’ve gotten rid of the rest of their clothing (much faster and easier than either of them had expected) and are settled against the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed.  
  
“Your skin is still cold,” Kento whispers, noticing Fuma shiver when he splays out his palm on his chest to let the warmth seep through.  
  
“I had to wait outside for quite a while,” Fuma points out and Kento bites his lip at that, clearly feeling a little guilty even when he couldn’t have hurried more.  
  
He shuffles down to start pressing kisses down Fuma’s torso, satisfied with the sharp intake of breath he gets as he reaches the silver line of the scar on his side, peeking the tip of his tongue out to trace it.  
  
“How did you even know when to come up?” He might be only speaking so he has an excuse to blow hot air over Fuma’s now wet skin, but when strong hands find their way to his shoulders and squeeze as Fuma sighs, clearly distracted, he’s sure that the other man doesn’t notice.  
  
“You switched on the light.”  
  
Kento chuckles at that, having to stop his actions as he glances up, dark hair falling into his eyes at the motion. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to get you worked up here.”  
  
“Then don’t try to make conversation,” Fuma returns sweetly, making Kento lightly bite his hip in retribution, just enough to leave teeth indents. When that only makes Fuma lunge for him and Kento duck out of reach with a laugh, he’s reminded of why exactly Fuma had been so special. As he’s being pinned to the mattress on his back and Fuma tickles him, he remembers how much fun they had together even more than how the sex was.  
  
And some of his sappy thoughts must be showing on his face, because when Fuma stops his ministrations for a moment to look at him, blond hair already hopelessly tousled, he seems to stop breathing before swooping down to kiss Kento again.  
  
The older man is more than okay with the change of pace, using the opportunity to loop his arms around Fuma’s neck and slip his tongue through plush lips to push against Fuma’s.  
  
“You’re cheating,” Fuma mumbles against his lips, like he can’t be bothered to pull away enough to speak properly. Not that the statement makes all that much sense to begin with, so Kento just shrugs and continues to steal his breath away until he can’t spare any for useless words anymore. It’s so easy to get lost in the feeling of Fuma’s lips against his own and after a few more minutes of this, Fuma’s fingers skirting down his sides; fingertips warm now but still making Kento shiver.  
  
His own fingers somehow found their way into Fuma’s hair, running through soft strands of blond and twirling a lock around his index finger as he pulls away to give it a closer look. He already knows Fuma isn’t a natural blond (both from the actual first time they met and the evidence presented to him right now when he glances down), but it’s difficult to imagine him with black hair now. Unaware of his thoughts taking a path of their own, he yelps lightly in surprise when Fuma flips them over and pulls Kento on top of him, previously gentle finger poking his side and making him squirm in his lap.  
  
“You’re not paying enough attention to me,” Fuma points out with a pout and slaps Kento’s hand away when the older man reaches for his cheeks as if to squish them (it’s an immediate reflex when he sees Fuma look at him like that). “Are you still sulking that I didn’t dance with you? Is this the revenge?”  
  
Kento blinks at him in confusion, saying, “I was just wondering what you’d look like with dark hair.” Fuma raises his eyebrows and Kento grins sheepishly, realizing how odd that must sound, so he quickly changes the topic. “But I wouldn’t mind getting that dance later.”  
  
“We’re not doing this right if you have time to wonder about my hair colour,” Fuma mutters and Kento pats his chest soothingly; only the innocent touch turns into clever fingers brushing Fuma’s nipples purposefully, making Fuma inhale sharply.  
  
“Let me make it up to you.”  
  
He can feel the shiver that goes through Fuma’s body at the words or maybe his tone, quieter now and a little rougher, but he doesn’t say anything in response, just looks at Kento curiously. The older man smirks down at him, getting up only to quickly dig through his nightstand; pausing a moment when the first thing he sees upon opening it is Fuma’s purple scarf. He smiles a little as he pushes it aside, fishing out a small tube and about to slowly crawl back when Fuma tugs him back down on top of him already.  
  
Kento has to laugh into the kiss he gets pulled into, pleased with how impatient his partner suddenly is, hands eagerly roaming his skin; wandering over his chest and between his legs; squeezing him and making the laughter die in his throat because he abruptly doesn’t have any air left for it.  
  
Parting only to get a good look at the other, he uses the opportunity to make Fuma sit back against the pillows fully before sitting down in his lap with his back to him and one knee on either side of Fuma’s thighs after sending him one last grin. He loves the way Fuma’s dark brown eyes keep tracking every one of his movements in mild wonder, like he’s not quite sure where Kento is going with this. To his credit, Kento is rarely in such an exhibitionistic mood but today, he wants to show off and make Fuma crave too touch him even more badly than he himself had during the ball (and the last few weeks), so he lifts himself up on his knees as he uncaps the tube in front of his chest.  
  
Making sure Fuma can only hear the sound of the gel being squished onto his fingers, he finally reaches back to slip them down the crack between his cheeks. He can hear the surprised intake of breath as he doesn’t play around for long and instead pushes the first digit inside without pre-amble, his own eyes fluttering closed at the feeling, head still turned back halfway so Fuma can see his every expression. Warm fingers start running up and down along his back, tracing the thin scars there, making Kento shudder lightly.  
  
He doesn’t allow himself to get lost in the sensation though, instead efficiently wiggling his finger to stretch his rim as he starts moving his hips in slight swaying motions; up and down on his finger and brushing over Fuma’s thighs lightly with every motion. It’s more for show than anything else, but when he can feel the way Fuma’s fingers forget their caress at every other of his movements, he knows Fuma appreciates it.  
  
Feeling himself loosen up soon enough, he pushes a second finger in but this time wobbles a little on his knees when he does. Fuma’s hands are quick to reach out and steady him though, remaining on his hips even after he steadies himself with his free hand on Fuma’s thigh and it doesn’t look like he’s going to fall anymore. The way Fuma’s fingers are digging into his skin makes him moan quietly, his eyes eyelids fluttering as he purposefully pushes inside deep only to involuntarily buck his hips as his own fingertips brush over a sensitive spot inside him.  
  
“Kento,” Fuma says and his voice sounds strained, like he can barely hold back from taking Kento on the spot.  
  
It makes Kento blink his big eyes open and smirk at him knowingly again, though he immediately regrets it when Fuma uses his hold to pull him backwards a little, making him impale himself on his fingers further and moan louder.  
  
He does have a plan here though and with the fiery way Fuma is looking at him, it’s not at all difficult to remember as he pulls his fingers out and hand the bottle of lube to Fuma as he turns around in his lap so they’re face to face again. The next kiss is sloppy at best, with Fuma lathering himself up and Kento just trying to get impossibly closer, pawing at his chest and panting against his lips. He only manages to focus again when Fuma’s warm hand presses on the small of his back to signal that he’s ready and Kento quickly moves so he can feel Fuma’s length pressing between his cheeks, breath hitching as he follows the urging of that hand and Fuma’s eyes some more before he lowers himself onto it, guiding him in with his still slippery fingers.  
  
Three and a half weeks are a long time, and he can feel that as Fuma slowly pushes inside him, stretching him with every centimeter that slips inside until Kento’s finally fully seated in his lap again and breathless like they didn’t just start; clenching and unclenching around the thick shaft inside him almost unconsciously.  
  
“Kento,” Fuma calls out softly even as his voice sounds tense and it’s only then that Kento realizes he’s closed his eyes in pleasure, having almost forgotten how good it was to feel deliciously full like this.  
  
Keeping them half-lidded, he raises his arms to lock them around Fuma’s neck; a lazy smile tugging on his lips as he slowly starts undulating his hips in circles against Fuma, like they’re back in that club, like they’re dancing again.  
  
He watches Fuma closely as he moves, trying to move to a proper rhythm to keep the illusion of a dance at the same time as he just wants to press down against him urgently to get _more,_ the way Fuma’s dick is moving inside of him more of a tease for himself than anything else.  
  
“Like what you see?” he whispers finally, voice low and very aware of the effect it has on Fuma.  
  
What he doesn’t expect, is for Fuma to grin and shake his head at him before tipping Kento over to fall back onto the sheets. With the older refusing to loosen his hold around Fuma’s neck, they end up with Kento on his back and Fuma sitting between his legs, hovering over him, smiling down at him fondly before kissing him urgently; their connection never broken during the move.  
  
“I do.”  
  
Long fingers wrap around Kento’s thighs, pulling him further up into Fuma’s lap and Fuma pushing closer until he’s pressed flush against Kento’s backside; both of them needing a moment to adjust when it makes Fuma slip a few more centimeters deeper and catch their breath.  
  
Kento lets one of his hands wander back into Fuma’s hair again, tugging lightly to get Fuma to look at him. Dark eyes open to meet his and he smiles, mewling softly when Fuma jerks his hips into him experimentally. The movement makes Kento remember that he can move, too, and he wraps his legs around Fuma’s waist; ankles crossing behind the small of his back like he wants to make sure Fuma can’t get away from him.  
  
Fuma only grins, fingers tracing along his thigh and down his leg, leaving goose bumps in their wake. It’s the actions of his other hand that make Kento shiver and moan though, as it closes around Kento’s so far neglected erection, squeezing firmly as he strokes. There’s no doubt that he holds Fuma’s attention completely now and Kento tries not to be too loud as he bucks his hips to get Fuma to move elsewhere too, the feeling of the hard unmoving length inside him slowly driving him insane.  
  
There’s a quiet groan from Fuma and finally he starts to move his hips, the hand on Kento’s thigh tightening as he starts a languid rhythm to rock into him. Kento has trouble doing more than lie there and enjoy the feeling, observing Fuma with half-lidded eyes and panting raggedly as he’s caught between the maddeningly good sensations of Fuma driving into him and long fingers around his length.  
  
“Got your- attention now, huh,” Fuma manages between thrusts, grinning devilishly and Kento can’t help the delighted little laugh that escapes him when their thoughts are so similar.  
  
He means to reply and tease right back, but his brain can’t seem to connect more than two words at the moment and so instead, he presses his legs into Fuma’s sides firmly, clenching around him purposefully and making them both moan at the sensation.  
  
It’s enough to get Fuma to stop messing around, too, his fist pumping Kento with unsteady rhythm as his hips bang into Kento’s ass, an obscene slapping sound filling the room. The friction is amazing and Kento loses himself in the feeling of Fuma, twisting his hips sharply so Fuma’s angle changes and they both cry out. His hands slide down Fuma’s neck, his strength seemingly leaving him when Fuma’s fingers flick over the head of his cock and smear the precum there, gasping and and muscles tensing involuntarily.  
  
Kento whimpers in protest when Fuma’s hand leaves his erection only moments later however, the younger man clearly on the edge himself, and only moaning louder when Fuma forgets all about rhythm and just tightens his grip on Kento’s hips instead; holding him tight and pistoning in and out of him in his desperate need to finish. Even with all finesse gone, he still hits Kento’s prostate on every other thrust thanks to the angle, making Kento trash beneath him, hands digging into the sheets and Fuma’s biceps in turn, gasping loudly when Fuma suddenly stills pressed fully inside him; eyes firmly closed and panting.  
  
Kento wants to give him time to come down from his high, but he is so desperately close himself, without any chance to get off because his limbs aren’t cooperating and in the end he whines pitifully, squeezing Fuma’s arm and trying to get him to do _something_ until Fuma’s eyes finally flutter open again and focus on him.  
  
“Shhh,” he makes and mashes their mouths together, none of the heat and urgency gone from their kiss as their lips move against each other. “I haven’t forgotten about you.”  
  
His tone is teasing despite how breathless he sounds and Kento whines again, “Fuma, please-”  
  
He gasps when Fuma scoots backwards, his length sliding out of Kento with a slick noise and he isn’t at all prepared for the sudden feeling of emptiness and he has no idea what Fuma’s doing anymore, until he suddenly leans downwards and closes his lips around Kento’s throbbing erection, causing him to cry out and his hips to buck up into the wet heat smoothly sliding down over more and more of his member. He wants to say Fuma’s name again, wants to tell him how good it feels when Fuma starts working his tongue around him, wants to keep pushing up into Fuma’s mouth with shallow thrusts forever. But then he looks down and Fuma’s eyes meet his over where he’s sucking Kento off and the sight is too much; Kento cries out and comes in hot white spurts over Fuma’s tongue as the other man quickly pulls back so he doesn’t choke.  
  
He whimpers when Fuma pulls off of him completely, not breaking their gaze as he licks his lips in the most obscene manner Kento has ever witnessed before he swallows and crawls back up Kento’s body to kiss him. Neither of them have enough air left to keep doing it for long though and eventually, Fuma tiredly flops down onto his chest, not minding about how much of a mess they both are and owlishly blinking up at Kento.  
  
“That was….” Kento trails off, swallowing because he can’t recall an accurate word for it; instead bringing up trembling fingers to run them down Fuma’s back, making the other man shiver from the touch.  
  
“Yeah,” Fuma agrees breathlessly, “That.”  
  
And Kento laughs again, throwing his head back with the force of it. He can feel the rumble of Fuma’s chest against his own as the other man chuckles and cranes his neck to look at him again until deciding to turn so Fuma rolls off of him and they’re both lying on the mattress, facing each other as Kento rests his head on the crook of his elbow, still happily watching Fuma watch him as he edges closer and throws and arm over his waist.  
  
“Is this foreplay again?” Kento all but purrs when Fuma’s fingers start drawing lazy circles over the small of his back in return.  
  
Fuma snorts, but shakes his head. “You don’t get to complain, you obviously love it.”  
  
“Not complaining, “ Kento points out and wiggles closer until he’s lying on Fuma’s outstretched arm instead of his own, leg slipping between Fuma’s comfortably and finding with some satisfaction that there’s no part of Fuma that feels cold anymore.  
  
Fuma only hums in response, eyes slipping closed. Kento continues watching him, entranced in a way and feeling something nagging him in the back of his mind. Maybe it’s only because Fuma isn’t looking at him in that moment that he finds the courage to mumble the next words into Fuma’s skin.  
  
“I don’t want to wait so long to see you again, next time.”  
  
It’s admitting, he’s aware, how much he wants to be with Fuma already. A confession that neither of them has explicitly made so far, but it seemed to him like they felt the same way; pushing him to eventually say it.  
  
He glances up nervously when he feels Fuma shift and draw his arm away from him to rest his hand over his face, making it impossible for Kento to see his expression. The first thought that crosses Kento’s mind unbidden is that Fuma must be laughing at him and when no answer follows, he pushes himself up on his elbows to regard Fuma crossly. Thunder rolls outside.  
  
“Listen,” he says, his voice sharper than usual because being ignored in an important situation like this makes him feel like he’s being rejected; not a feeling he appreciates. “If I read too much into this, it’s my bad, but at least-”  
  
He stops abruptly when one of Fuma’s hands settles on his, squeezing while the other is still hiding his face but slowly lowering itself and Kento’s mouth falls open a little as he realizes Fuma hasn’t been laughing at him at all. Instead, he looks flushed and a little embarrassed as their eyes meet and he shakes his head.  
  
“I was thinking the same thing,” he admits and Kento automatically leans closer to catch the words, as they are spoken so quietly and in a rush, like it’s costing Fuma everything he has to even utter them.  
  
“You were?” Kento exclaims, almost bubbling over with the rush of relief.  
  
“Didn’t we go over this before?” And now Fuma’s voice clearly sounds whiny, not meeting Kento’s eyes and instead staring at the sheets. “I like you.”  
  
The last part is muffled and Kento can’t help himself, he actually giggles even as Fuma sends him a glare for it.  
  
“Don’t glare! You’re _so_ cute when you get flustered.”  
  
The glare intensifies, but the younger man doesn’t protest when Kento playfully flops down on his chest, looking squarely at him with big eyes and chin digging into warm skin as he considers Fuma’s words. “I know it’s dangerous to keep seeing each other, but as long as we’re careful, it should be fine, right? We both have experience in sneaking around after all.”  
  
Kento gives that time to sink in, a smile spreading over his face as he adds, “And we can’t help how we feel. In a way, it’s really romantic, you know? Meeting by fate. A forbidden love story between-”  
  
The next words are muffled when a pillow is abruptly shoved into his face, making him sputter and cough before he can hear Fuma muttering, “Stop talking, _please_ ,” in an completely horrified voice.  
  
Kento indignantly pushes the pillow away to lunge forward in revenge, playfully pressing Fuma’s arms into the mattress next to his head and keeping them there as he settles astride Fuma’s broad chest. “ _So_ cute,” he coos and laughs as Fuma’s cheeks turn a darker shade of red before he finally takes mercy on him and leans down to press their mouths together.  
  
“I like you a lot,” he whispers against plush lips, like he’s sharing a well-kept secret, and pulls back only so he can see Fuma still blushing and not meeting his eyes as he nods.  
  
“Or maybe ‘like’ isn’t the right word,” Kento muses, not averting his gaze as Fuma’s eyes flicker up to meet his nervously. He really wants to see if he can make Fuma reply out loud, with more than just looks and touches and nodding.  
  
“Maybe it’s more. You know? I might have fallen in-”  
  
Fuma’s wrists jerk under his fingers and Kento can no longer stop the smirk as Fuma’s blush has spread all the way down his well-defined chest.  
  
“I get it,” he mutters hastily when the man above him doesn’t budge, eyes pleading.  
  
“And how does Fuma feel about me?” His tone is sickly sweet and Fuma’s expression turns into a strange cross between annoyed and fond and Kento almost misses it when he finally mumbles,  
  
“Same.”  
  
And he doesn’t quite know what to do with the giddy feeling taking over his body, all traces of sleepiness completely gone as he smiles at Fuma to an extent that it actually makes his face hurt.  
  
“I want my dance,” he suddenly declares and starts tugging on Fuma’s hands as he makes to scramble off the bed.  
  
Fuma gapes at him, not moving from his spot. “What? Now?”  
  
“Yes, now.”  
  
Kento gives up tugging in favour of quickly walking over to his stereo, beginning to zap through the different radio stations and pausing on the one playing a ballad; cheesy maybe, but it’s also one of his favourite songs.  
  
“Do you know this one?” he asks as he glances back, a little surprised to see Fuma has not only left the bed but actually made the effort to pull his pants back on. The realization makes Kento hyper aware of the fact that he himself has been running around the room completely nude and so quickly dives for his own underwear to the sound of Fuma’s snickering.  
  
In the end, he guesses it’s only fair that Fuma gets to see him blush as well, though he feels like a red faced Fuma is the rarer sight. They both tug on their white shirts again at least, probably making for an odd sight in only their underwear and that.  
  
It was his own suggestion, but when they stand in front of each other as the music plays, Kento feels oddly stiff and awkward; not at all sure how to take the first step without looking like an idiot. Luckily, Fuma has no such reservations and his arms encircle Kento’s waist easily as he steps close.  
  
“I do.”  
  
Kento blinks up at the other man in confusion, having already forgotten that he asked something when Fuma starts slowly moving to the music. It’s easy to fall into rhythm with him, Kento’s arms looping behind Fuma’s neck again and huddling close as they dance, warm bodies touching everywhere.  
  
“How? I thought they wouldn’t play our artists in other countries.”  
  
“They don’t,” Fuma agrees, burying his face in Kento’s neck as they sway softly in place. “But I love music, so I often buy records from Water or Fire Country when I sneak out to visit. I can bring along some of my favourites from Wind Country some time, if you’re interested.”  
  
“I’d like that,” Kento says softly, smiling as his own head leans sideways to rest against Fuma’s. “I want to know everything about you. What kind of music you like, what food you hate, why you dyed your hair, what you do when you’re alone, how you play with your siblings… everything. Tell me?”  
  
Fuma moves to muster Kento closely, like he’s wondering whether Kento really means it, but from the way Kento’s eyes shine he knows he won’t be stopped from talking once he starts.  
  
In the end, they talk for long after they’re too exhausted to stay on their feet anymore, let alone dance.  It becomes harder and harder to stay awake after they make their way under the warm cover of blankets in Kento’s bed, but as it turns out, Fuma is just as curious to hear everything about Kento as the other way around – even though he doesn’t explicitly say it. That’s one of the things Kento learned about him without having to hear it expressed in words; Fuma prefers action where Kento would choose to speak his mind. They’re opposites in many more ways than just that, he thinks when his eyes slip closed for the nth time, finally losing the battle against sleep, but somehow they fit together like puzzle pieces.

***

  
By the time Kento wakes up, the sun is already shining into the room; meaning it must be past noon already. There are no curtains in front of his window, but the brightness never wakes Kento up so he looks around to figure out what it was, his eyes coming to rest on Fuma at the end of the bed, hastily zipping up his coat over the rumpled white shirt.  
  
“Fuma?” Kento asks, voice still heavy with sleep. “What’re you doing?”  
  
“Sorry,” Fuma says, not stopping his frantic motions. He’s struggling to get into his shoes, briefly stumbling and having to catch himself on one of the bed posts as he meets Kento’s sleepy gaze. “I’m supposed to be back home already.”  
  
The urgency in his voice finally wakes Kento up some more, making him blink a few times and gather his thoughts. “Last time no one missed you when you stayed a day longer.”  
  
“That’s because last time, I wasn’t supposed to be greet foreign delegates with the rest of the royal family,” Fuma snaps impatiently, making Kento physically recoil.  
  
He’d figured Fuma must have been lying about his important business yesterday, but with the way he’s all but stumbling over himself as he runs towards the window, quickly checking to see if anyone is around to see before he opens it, it certainly seems true.  
  
“Wait,” Kento suddenly calls out and Fuma almost falls off the window sill as he quickly reaches for something to hold onto and turns back with wide eyes.  
  
“Kento, I really don’t have time-”  
  
“I know,” Kento immediately snaps back, irritated against his will with how abruptly Fuma has to leave, even when he understands how badly this situation could end. For all they know, Wind Country will be assuming something happened to their crown prince while visiting a former enemy. “But your scarf is still in my nightstand!”  
  
He bends over from the bed to rummage through the drawer, quickly holding it up and out towards Fuma, only to find Fuma staring at him in something between confusion and wonder before the other man finally shakes his head.  
  
“Keep it,” he says and his voice is warm as he says it, corners of his lips drawn upwards in a fond smile before he salutes Kento with one hand and jumps out.  
  
It takes a while for Kento to remember that he wanted to see how Fuma had made his way up here, but he’s far more preoccupied staring the soft purple material in his hands. _Keep it_ , he thinks, and a smile starts to spread over his features as he buries his face in the scarf with a small happy chuckle.

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/80937.html)  
> A/N2: For Michelle, because she's awesome and deserves good things and I love her (and she kept poking me for this xD). ♥


End file.
